Lupi 06 - Blood Magic

better. That's what everyone tells me, and Max said this took some real juice to pull off. So if it's a Gift, is it one of the mind Gifts, like telepathy or charisma? Max thought it was, in which case - "
    "Cullen's shields would have blocked it. Yes, I think you're right. The perp had to strike from behind."
    "If he knows about Cullen's shields, he did. Maybe the backstab is his standard MO. I need to find out if - "
    His mouth came down on hers. Soft, not hard, with a lover's certainty and a taste of tongue. Heat curled low in her belly. Her fingers curled, too, holding on a little harder. "What was that for?"
    "You." He pressed another kiss to her lips, then deserted them for her neck. "You need to go to bed."
    "Probably, but not to... ah." He'd done that thing with his fingers at her nape that made her shiver. "Sleep," she said, trying to mean it. "Not sex. I need sleep."
    "You need to shut your mind off." He painted a rune along her collarbone with his tongue. "Or you won't sleep." Now his hands reached for one of their favorite spots... her rump. "I can help."
    A chuckle slipped out. "Always thinking of others."
    "Certainly. For example, I think you're too warm." His hands deserted their post to find the zipper in the back of her dress. He pulled it down slowly, drowning her in another kiss, this one deeper, richer.
    Seconds later, her dress crumpled to the floor, and his hands found new places to touch while his mouth tended to a spot on her neck he liked.
    "Hey." The stirring was sweet, familiar, new. Always new. "I have a question. Something I've been wondering all night." Her hands slid to his denim-clad butt. "Commando?"
    "Mmm. I can't remember. Perhaps you should check."
    She did. She slid the shorts down to discover that, indeed, there was nothing beneath them but Rule.
    He clasped her hand and her waist, leaving several inches between them, and murmured, "We missed our dance." And he began humming.
    So she danced in bra and panties with her beautiful, naked Rule, with the lights of the city twinkling at them from the window wall. He danced her into the living area, humming a 1930s torch song, one that had been old-fashioned even back when he was born.
    Lily didn't dance with him because he was right, though he was. She did need to shut off her mind. But a quick, hot bout between the sheets - or on top of them, or in the foyer, wherever - would have taken care of that. She didn't need to spin around the floor at nearly 3 A.M.
    He did. He needed surcease, comfort, sex, and sleep.
    The sex was easy. Sleep? She couldn't guarantee that, but sex would surely help it along. She had a good shot at comfort, too, thanks to the mate bond. As for surcease... that's what this dance was for, wasn't it? Surcease means to bring to an end, and he meant to bring this long, difficult day to an end his way, with the stubborn insistence that blood and violence might be part of their lives, but only part.
    Play was just as real. What was romance but a lovely bit of play between man and woman?
    Absurd, stubborn, impossibly romantic man. He kept touching her, but nothing they couldn't have done on any dance floor.
    Not yet.
    He paused their motion to bend and switch off the one lamp they'd left on. She laughed softly at the sudden darkness, the city lights, and herself.
    His hands settled on her hips as he continued to move to his own music, but the tune changed to one with a hard, definite beat. "Something's funny?"
    "Me." She looped her arms around his neck, swaying with him, humming along this time. So selfless she was, willing to give up a little sleep for a man who was clearly determined to make sure it would be no sacrifice. How did a woman give to a man who was so determined to give to her?
    She tried harder. Lily smiled into the dimness and eased closer. Now she brushed against him with every motion.
    He liked that. He rumbled low in his throat in a way she wouldn't dream of calling a purr - even if it did remind her of Dirty Harry. His hands tightened on her hips. One of them began wandering... brushing her lightly here and there, but never in the place that had begun to ache for him. She pressed closer.
    "Uh-uh." The hand at her hip tightened, keeping a hint of space between them. Suddenly he whirled her around - once, then again - making her laugh in spite of her frustration, ending with them at the dark tunnel of the hall. Once more he slowed.
    Two slow, humming turns into the hall, her bra fell to the floor.
    Her